Picking up the pieces
by Robot from the future
Summary: Inspired by the song, Picking up the Pieces by Paloma Faith. Set between series 2 and 3. Vince gets a reminder of a person from their past who could threaten what they have together.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, I know I should be updating The Accessory instead of writing new fics but this came to me today after listening to a little bit too much Paloma Faith. This isn't a songfic exactly, more inspired by the song 'Picking up the Pieces'**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Mighty Boosh or Paloma Faith. Oh, the things I'd do with them if I did...**

**As you will probably be able to tell, this is set between the second and third series, with flashbacks to between the first and second series**

**Some weirdos on here got really threatening about posting lyrics on here but if you don't know the song go check it out on YouTube or just google the lyrics**

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Vince sighed, looking left and right around his and Howard's bedroom, over the pile of clothes in his arms. Even though Naboo had charmed his wardrobes to hold 100 times more clothes than their size, it was clear he was going to need more space. Every surface on his side of the room was cluttered with hair products, glitter gels, accessories and half eaten packets of sweets.

He glanced longingly over at Howard's side of the room, the half empty wardrobe, the clear floor. Maybe he could just keep a couple of things in Howard's drawer for a few days. He'd have a big clear out at the weekend, tidy up, make some more space, after all, some of the clothes at the back of his wardrobe were at least a month old and needed binning, but until then…

His arms were starting to ache under the weight of the garments he was holding. He didn't really think chain mail was going to catch on but he had seen it in Cheekbone and it was best to be prepared. Glancing guiltily over his shoulder, he stepped over onto Howard's pristine carpet and dumped the objects on top of his chest of drawers. Before they toppled onto the floor Vince quickly moved Howard's old portable television back to make more space. He had claimed he needed it to watch his nature documentary dvds but Vince had never seen him watching one. The only time he had ever seen Howard watching anything on it was when he came back early one day from Topshop and caught Howard red handed and red faced, frantically trying to turn off a dvd that most definitely hadn't been made by David Attenborough, spluttering and blustering that there must have been a mix up at the video shop. Maybe Howard would let him move it so he could put his shrine to Jagger up there. Since they'd given up on their career as touring musicians (they'd run out of towns to play in that hadn't heard of them and they rarely got asked to return anywhere for a repeat performance), Vince had been changing their room around more often, trying to make it feel more like home.

Behind the tv, a flash of colour caught his eye. Vince reached behind and pulled out the old photograph. He had never seen it before but recognised the scene instantly. Howard was in the middle, his tiny eyes crinkled in one of his rare smiles. On one side, Vince, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, his cheeks rosy and his eyes bright from the mad dancing he'd been doing. And on the other side of Howard, the reason for his smile - Mrs Gideon. The banners in the background showed the picture had been taken at Howard's 30th birthday, which doubled as a zoo closing party. All the staff and animals had attended, only Bainbridge notable by his absence. Howard looked so happy. As happy as he'd ever seen him, maybe more. That was what really shook him. Vince sank onto the bed before his legs gave way, photo in hand, wondering if Howard missed the zoo, the way things used to be, as much as he did sometimes. Or was it just her he missed, he thought bitterly as his mind drifted back to that night.

"Tonight's the night, Vince!" Howard had exclaimed jubilantly as he splashed cologne onto his hands and patted it onto his face. He was getting ready for the party Vince had organised. Every year it was the same - Howard would go on about not wanting a party, bringing up that same old story about the year Vince didn't get him a bouncy castle. Then every year he would cave to Vince's pleading and they'd have a huge party.

"For what?" Vince was wary as he battled Howard for the mirror.

"To tell Mrs Gideon how I feel of course. Papa Moon's gonna lay it on the line. The zoo's closing tomorrow, I might never see her again. It's now or never,"

"Oh not her again. Listen Howard, I think maybe 'never' gets a bad deal of it sometimes, I mean, it's an underrated choice -"

"No, I'm a man of action and it's about time I did some…well…actioning," Howard trailed off, unsure.

"Alright then," Vince held his hands up, "But if it all goes wrong, don't go near any freshwater fish this time,"

"You're right," Howard's face turned dejected, "she's a sophisticated woman. She likes the finer things, like trumpets, and bookmarks. She's not going to go for a guy like me, she thinks I'm an idiot,"

"Nah, it'll be genius, it's your party, you'll be centre of attention. Gideon will be all over you like a flannel," Vince enthused, falling into one of his old patterns. He never knew why he did it – argued the opposite of whatever it was Howard said, no matter what it was, he just couldn't help himself. Plus he didn't want to destroy Howard's good mood.

"You think?" the smile was creeping back now.

"Yeah course, now come on – Leroy said he was going to put up a pinata!"

He had forgotten all about Naboo taking this picture until now. Christy, he looked a mess, his cheeks, rounder there than now, almost glowing in the flash light of the camera. The comparison between him and Gideon made him feel sick. She looked flawless – not a hair out of place, smiling coyly at the camera, shining in her splendor.

The night had been amazing and had ended with Vince and Howard having a satsuma fights in their pants and vests. That was what Leroy had filled the pinata with, the idiot. Vince had heard what some of the others said about him and Howard. Them running round in their underwear wouldn't really help with the rumours that they were bumming, Vince knew, but he just told everyone that they were all smoke and no fire, like that dry ice stuff that Howard was always going on about.

It wasn't until the next day that Vince had thought to ask Howard how he'd got on with his plan,

"I don't want to talk about it," was the curt response he had received. That was the last time Gideon's name had ever been spoken between the two of them.

Vince had thought of her though, oh yes, he had thought of her. He had thought of her when he'd grown his hair longer, dyed it darker. He had thought of her when he starved himself, or made himself sick, shivering and spitting over the toilet bowl, losing weight until his cheekbones stuck out like hers had. He had hoped that if he made himself a bit more like her, it would make Howard like him but now he wondered if it had been a mistake. Did Howard think of her, when he saw Vince's changed looks? Did he see Vince or was he too busy replaying memories of Gideon? Vince realised now that with this photo, he had his answer. All that effort, wasted. He was still stuck in her shadow, it didn't matter how long she had been gone, it would always be her that Howard thought of, that Howard loved.

The worst of it was when he saw the irritation in Howard's eyes. He'd knew sometimes he was too loud, playing the clown and teasing Howard mercilessly, just to get a reaction, anything to get him to notice him, building his character and looks bigger and bigger, to cover up all the doubts he had. But that look, accompanied by a slight shake of the head was enough to deflate him – no matter how big he made his hair or how tight his clothes or tall his boots – that look still returned him to being the scared kid at the zoo who had realised he was in love with his best friend and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Sometimes at night Vince heard Howard crying, sobbing quietly into his pillow when he thought Vince was asleep. He would just lie there, watching Howard's shoulders shaking silently. He had always wondered, always feared that the tears were for Gideon, as he lay watching unnoticed, so close that he could reach out and touch Howard if he dared. He never did though.

Angry at himself, he dashed the tears that had gathered on his cheeks away with the back of his hand. Was this worth it? Waiting for a man who would never love him back? Wasting the best years of his life in a shop with someone who at best, only saw him as a poor imitation of the person he really wanted, but more realistically, never really saw him at all. He deserved to be loved back, dammit "I deserve it," he muttered under his breath as his anger spiked.

Before he really realised what he was doing, he'd ripped the photo into a dozen tiny pieces, scattering them on Howard's bed as he did so. That was it, Vince decided. He'd had enough. He'd put so much effort into that birthday party and all Howard remembered was bloody Gideon. Well no more. Howard's birthday was coming up in a few months and by then, Vince would have got his attention, he swore on Jagger.

From his vantage point on Howard's bed, Vince spied a couple of spray cans under a pile of boots on his own side of the room. He'd been using them to customise a jacket. They gave him the perfect idea of how to start getting Howard to pay some attention to what was right under his nose. One way or another, Howard Moon was going to notice him, really notice him.

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**Well there you go. This was really meant to be a oneshot but I can't leave well enough alone so there might be a HPOV sequel. Review if you think it'd be worth carrying on with**


	2. Chapter 2

When Howard came home Vince was nowhere to be seen, the clothes scattered all over their room, over his side of the room, the only evidence he'd ever been there at all. He wasn't that surprised – the days of their shabby but tidy hut at the zoo were long gone. Nowadays Vince seemed determined fill every corner of their lives with his ever growing presence. Howard gritted his teeth in frustration and prepared to shift them all back onto Vince's side of the room when he saw them – the ripped pieces of the photograph. Instantly, shame and guilt flooded him with a queasy feeling and a desire to give himself a Chinese burn. Vince must have found it. He wasn't surprised that Vince wasn't prepared to let a photo of himself looking like that exist.

Picking up the pieces, he saw a flash of his birthday banner, his own tiny eyes, the cream slopes of Mrs Gideon's face. He almost laughed to himself as his mind slipped so easily back into the old words of his past. He hadn't even written any cream poetry for years. Perhaps a man has only got so much poetry inside him, and he had used it all up at the zoo.

Briefly Howard wondered if he could get Naboo to magic the pieces back together, or at least let him have the negative to reprint the picture, but he knew he would be too embarrassed to ask. Shame. He really treasured that picture and it was irreplaceable. Oh yes, he had spent many a long hour studying the face in the picture, gazing into those eyes, in a way he would have never dared to do in real life. When he looked at that picture, time and space melted away and it was just the two of them, together at last. He had been so happy on that birthday, the night had been full of possibilities. How different to now. He wondered, as he had done numerous times, what had happened to Gideon, whether things had turned out better for her than for him. Howard Moon, failed explorer, failed musician and now soon to be failed shopkeeper, he had no doubt.

He had been so sure, in the moments before that picture was taken, that it was finally going to be his time, that Mrs Gideon would finally recognise him, maybe even return his feelings. The zoo was closing, Gideon was moving away and that was giving him the reckless courage of a man with nothing left to lose. That last conversation they had was seared into his brain, he knew he would never forget it.

"Ah, Mrs Gideon, I wonder if I might have a word," Howard had approached her nervously, as he might some of the more skittish animals.

"Yes?" she looked at him with the same quizzical look she always gave him.

"It's just, well first and foremost, thank you for coming to my birthday party," he wiped his clammy palms on his trousers, trying frantically to remember the exact words he'd come up with to convince her of his love.

"This is the party for the closing of the zoo isn't it?" confusion deepened the lines on her forehead.

"Ah, yes, and also my birthday. Did you not see the banners?" he pointed at the childishly crayoned 'Happy Birthday Howard' banners that were stuck up everywhere, Vince's hand apparent on every one (bar the one that read happy birthday ball and had a banana skin stuck to it, which Howard guessed was Naboo and Bollo's contribution).

"I did wonder about those," Gideon muttered vaguely, her eyes drifting over to the almost empty dance floor where Vince was pogoing enthusiastically.

"Hmm, well anyway, the thing is, Mrs Gideon, I've been meaning to speak to you, it's just –"

"He's magnificent isn't he," she murmured, still looking at Vince.

"What? Look, it's not Vince I want to talk about. The thing is –"

"I can see why you love him like you do,"

"Who Vince? Me? Love? Oh no, I think you've got the wrong idea there. Howard Moon is a ladies man, and it's that I wanted -"

Gideon was looking puzzled again, "Oh, my apologies, I thought you two were a couple. I think everyone just assumed….but the way he looks at you – the way you look at him?"

Howard was speechless for a moment. Him and Vince? Was that what everyone thought?

In that moment Vince bounced over and threw his arm around Howard's shoulder, grinning widely. The heat of his arm soaked through Howard's green zoo jacket and nutmeg Hawaiian shirt. Vince was always warm – he said it was because he was made of sunshine. The feeling of it, of him so close he could feel his hair tickling his cheek was such a surprise he forgot to tell Vince not to touch him. Howard's head was still reeling from Gideon's words. Him love Vince? He didn't…did he? All at once he knew the answer to the question, as surely as the sun rose every day. He'd come close to knowing it before, in the tundra, he'd even told Vince but he'd tried to forget about it. Of course they should be together - they went together like Miles Davies and sweet beebop trumpeting, like corduroy and tweed, like chips and gravy. He looked sidelong at Vince again, and he couldn't help from smiling himself as the realisation of what he had, deep down already known, washed over him, melting his insides like warm nutella.

"Say cheese!" Naboo lisped, calling their attention to the camera. The flash blinded Howard for a minute, enough time for Vince to shout a cheery 'see ya Howard' as he bounded off.

"So what was it you wanted?" Howard had almost forgotten Mrs Gideon was there. He looked at her and tried to recall the speech he'd prepared but there was nothing. Not the chokes, just it was all gone now, all his empty declarations of love for a woman he'd never even known.

"Oh, err, I just wanted to say good luck with the future you know, after the zoo, and goodbye,"

"Goodbye," there was an almost imperceptible pause as she looked over to the banners for confirmation, "Howard,"

With that she was gone. Howard had never seen her again. But he thought of her often, always grateful to the woman for showing him his own feelings.

Yes he had loved that photo of him and Vince but it was gone now, like everything else. Even the Vince from the photo was starting to slip away, being replaced by someone harder, someone Howard didn't always recognise. Sometimes at night he cried stupid tears over what he had already lost and more over what would never be. He'd never let Vince see that though. Suddenly Howard screwed the remnants of the picture up in his hand along with his courage. Things were going to change. At long last, he was going to be a man of action. Another birthday would not go by without letting out some of the things he had kept locked up in his heart. He was going to tell Vince how he felt.

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**Please, please, please review. Seriously, I have no shame, I'm not above begging**


	3. Chapter 3 - Just Be

**I do not own the Mighty Boosh or Paloma Faith**

**Chapter 3 set after the end of series 3.**

**If you don't know the Paloma Faith song, 'Just Be' check it out**

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Obviously they had shut the shop early to celebrate Howard's return. And obviously, this had meant Vince had called a load of mates round, got drunk, ignored Howard and gone out to a club, leaving him at home. 'Some welcome back', Howard thought resentfully as he heard Vince stumbling back in at 2AM. Every scrape of the key across the lock as he attempted to open the door, the thuds of him kicking off his boots, seemed magnified, until he burst into the bedroom, falling against the door so it swung back and hit the wall with a crash. As much as the sound felt like it was bubbling under his skin and making him want to scratch it off, Howard had a small amount of satisfaction that this at least hadn't changed in his absence. Even though they went their separate ways in the nights like two moths – Howard going to Jazzercise or staying at home and Vince flitting off to some club or bar – he always knew Vince would be flying home to him, forgetting anyone he had met or what he had done that night.

Vince sat on the edge of his bed, swaying slightly. Howard regarded him waiting for the barbed comment or the thinly veiled insult, and was surprised by the small, almost pleading tone of his voice.

"Why'd you come back Howard?" It wasn't said with a sneer, just genuine confusion.

"Where else would I go?" a laugh caught the edges of his words at the thought that it wasn't the geography that brought him back here – he'd go anywhere in the universe, as long as Vince would be there.

"You could go'n b'with 'er," Vince slurred, his face a picture of abject misery. Who did he mean, Howard wondered, was he trying to say Juurgen? Or did he maybe mean pencil case girl? Before he could figure it out, Vince continued, "I mean, you'd be happier. You're not happy here with me. "'N I'm horrible to you sometimes – trashing your record, ripping your photo…"

"The photo? I don't care about that any more," he was surprised Vince even remembered it.

"But you're unhappy. I can see it. You don't wanna stay here with me, just growing old together," Vince was sounding almost petulant now, frowning as he tried to cling onto his point through the flirtini haze in his brain tank.

"Vince," Howard paused, smiling "there's no one in this world that I'd rather be unhappy with," He had meant it as a joke, to try and distract Howard, but it only seemed to inflame Vince.

"I see it! I see it in your face. All those little things I do – you used to like them! Now they just get on your nerves,"

Howard wiped a weary hand over his face, tired with the effort of keeping the veneer of civility, of normalcy over their friendship intact "Oh Vince. You wear me out with frustration, and heartache and anger. Sometimes I feel like I don't understand you any more, like I don't want to understand you. But then you smile, or laugh or just look at me, and it just washes away,"

Vince was scrabbling around in his stuff now, looking for something – scarves and jewellery went flying as he dug deeper, "Here you go," he threw something at Howard before standing up and storming over to the window, tossing his hair angrily.

Howard sat up to see what Vince had chucked onto his quilt. It was a couple of fragments of the photo, sellotaped together. Mainly of Gideon, although his own face smiled up at him as well.

Vince had seen the pieces in the bin and stuck them back together. Whenever he had felt his mask was slipping over the past few months, he would look at the cold blank face of Gideon to remind himself how she used to treat Howard and how he had lapped it up. Just another thing he had tried to make Howard like him more.

Howard followed and stood beside him in silence for a moment, both staring out at the moon. Gritting his teeth, Howard overcame his lifelong aversion to physical contact and tentatively rested his hand on Vince's arm. It remained there for a moment before Vince shook it off angrily and turned to Howard,

"Don't say nuthin'! Howard, we're broken. We can't be fixed. I can't be second best to her any more!"

Howard sank back down onto his bed and for a moment, Vince felt a strange, jittery triumph at pushing him away.

It took Howard a few minutes to link what Vince was saying with the photo. Her? Gideon? Vince thought he'd be better off with her? Because of the photo…suddenly it all fell into place for him.

"Sit next to me. He looked up at Vince and spoke with such a rare tone of calm authority that Vince didn't think of anything other than to obey.

"I didn't keep the picture because of her, you idiot, I kept it because of you!" The words were out of his mouth before he'd even had a chance to think about what saying them would mean. It wasn't until Vince's mouth popped open into a perfect 'oh' that he realised just what he had said.

He was about to come up with some kind of excuse, to babble out words like he normally did when he was flustered but he stopped himself, reached over to the bag that he hadn't had time to unpack and pulled out the scrap. It was only two tiny pieces of the photo, also stuck together, with sellotape that Howard had taken from the sellotape tree. All it really showed was Vince's eyes and his smile, but it was enough for Howard. He had carried it everywhere with him. It gave him hope that one day they might find their way back to something better. Deciding it was time, at long last to be a man of action, he handed it to Vince and waited nervously.

"Me?" Vince repeated dumbly, holding the photo carefully in the palm of his hand, "but you went to another country to get away from me. I thought after we….after the party that you didn't want to be near me,"

"You thought that? You were the one who threw themselves off the roof to avoid me! You practically bought my ticket to Sweden, you were so keen to get rid of me!"

"So you never liked Gideon?"

"Well I did, at first but I never really knew her did I? Not like I know you," then all of a sudden, it was like being in the cave at the North Pole, with his blood rushing in his ears and his heart thumping in his chest, "Not like I love you,"

There was silence for a moment before Vince sniggered slightly. Howard wasn't as surprised this time – the slap in the face was lessened. All the same, he couldn't help rising to it,

"Oh no Sir. You better not be laughing at me. Not again,"

"You caught me off guard. It just came out of the blue is all,"

"Well I'm telling you I love you and you're laughing,"

"Oh don't start that again you Jack of Clubs! Now if I say it back, you're not going to believe me. I am laughing - I'm happy. Surprised, but happy!"

The corners of Howard's mouth twitched up in response and before he knew it, he was laughing too.

"Howard? Can I say it back yet? Or are you going to go all funny at me?"

"Let's just _be_, for a minute," Howard patted his hand wearily. Vince managed the silence for less than a minute.

"Howard? Howard? Howard?"

"What?" Howard snapped, though he was barely able to keep the humour from his voice.

"Go on Howard,"

Howard smiled, "You know little man, I think you can – oof" he exhaled in a hurry as Vince launched himself into his arms.

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**Well that's it. Hope you enjoyed. I was tempted to do a smut/fluff epilogue but there doesn't seem to be the interest. I mean, _maybe_, if I got a ton of reviews...**


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